What the Stars Foretold
by klytaemnestra
Summary: Old friends reunite for the Celebration of Summer Solstice, but the foretelling of events by a mystic has drastic effects on ones life.


Author: Beautifully Twisted 

Email: SkyFaIIs@aol.com 

Title: What the Stars Foretold 

Rating: PG-13 

Summary: Old friends reunite for the Celebration of Summer Solstice, but the foretelling of events by a mystic has drastic effects on ones life. 

Notes: I'm somewhat of a purist, therefore I write mainly by the text as opposed to the movies. I believe where fanfic is concerned, one should remain true to the books, as they are a great literary experience. 

Disclaimer: I, obviously, hold no rights to Tolkien and/or his characters. Though I have Legolas and Haldir stashed in my closest along with a leprechaun and Edward Scissorhands. 

Dedication: For Finding Beauty, whom without I would've never continued this story, and my fellow elf, Arlossiel 

About the Language: I speak Sindarin. While I try to keep it at a minimum, I tend to stray into it ever so often during Elven conversation. There will be a key provided at the end of each chapter concerning the Sindarin words and their common meaning. 

About the Story: This is set in 3021, two years after the War of the Ring; therefore most of the Elves still remain in Middle-Earth. I originally wanted to set it several more years after the War, however I'm a purist and I don't want to alter the Professor's original timeline too drastically. Also, this is non-slash. While I do write slash, I've found that often it takes away from the key factor in the Lord of the Rings: friendship. I've tried to remain as true to Tolkien's text as possible, though I may take the liberty to tweak some minor details. Lastly, I'm not aware of whether or not a similar story has been written -with the overload of this fandom, I can hardly read all the posted fiction- therefore any similarities are purely coincidental. Be kind and review.

**What the Stars Foretold**

Across the plains, three travellers on horseback approached the White City. The white tower of Minas Tirith stood like a spike of pearl in the midmorning sunlight, the standard of Undómiel and Elessar was unfurled in the warm summer breeze, and beneath the ensign flapped the pennant of the Summer Solstice, signifying the festivities to follow. Long had the _Faradome_ been symbolic among the Eldar, and with the rise of King Elessar and his Elven bride such a revered holiday amid elves had become a lavish festival among the Gondirrim. The festival brought distant travellers to their land, and united the traditions of the Firstborn with Dúnedane revelry. Though the journey from the Elven lands to the Kingdom of Elessar was a long and trying one, the dark threats no longer lurked as an inexorable pestilence. Therefore in time of celebration, many of the remaining elves would venture to Gondor where its citizens hailed them. 

As the riders drew upon the city, the watch set high in the tower acknowledged their presence. Word was sent to King Elessar that a trio of elves was approaching, knowing well that the King had explicitly informed all of the tower watchmen to inform him once they had been spotted, as he much desired to greet them. 

A fortnight and two months ago, Legolas of Ithilien had set out for Imladris seeking the company of Lord Elrond's sons, as was the customary among the twins to be with their sister and her husband on the Faradome. Though they were the frequent guests of the King, the two had not ventured from their homeland since they had last visited the White City, nearly eight months before. Legolas often split his time between Ithilien and Minas Tirith, and therefore was a common visitor of the city and greatly loved by all its citizens. Therefore, their arrival had been anticipated by many of the Gondirrim. 

No sooner than the word had reached him, Aragorn had rushed to the royal stables insisting on riding out to meet his friend and foster brothers. Seeing the approaching figure of their foster brother, Elladan and Elrohir slowed their steeds to a trot. 

'Aragorn!' The younger of the twins called out. 

The Dúnedane king offered an affectionate wave to the elves, before drawing his steed to halt and dismounting. The three elves momentarily exchanged looks and followed Aragorn's suit. 

'Welcome, _gwedeir_.' Aragorn addressed his foster siblings, giving each a strong embrace. 'You have been greatly missed.' 

'As have you.' Elladan replied, returning this gesture. 

Then the King turned his attention to the third elf, and clapped his arm about the blonde's shoulders before drawing him into an embrace. 'Legolas, good to have you back.' 

'Good to be back, m'lord.' Legolas smiled warmly, allowing his gaze to momentarily drift toward the White City. Minas Tirith was as much a home to him as Eryn Lasgalen or Ithilien. And though he longed to leave Middle-Earth to sail across the Sea he felt somewhat content within the walls of this city, for within it resided those dearest to him. 

'I had feared you would not arrive in time for the celebrations.' Aragorn explained later as the four rode toward the city gates. 

'An elf is never late.' Legolas regarded him with a mischievous smile. 

'Oh?' The Dúnedane arched an eyebrow in mock question, 'If I remember correctly, dear Legolas of Ithilien, you were considerably late for the Queen's begetting day celebration the year before last.' 

The blonde idly stroked the neck of Arod as he listened to his friend accusations. 'Then your memory fails you.' 

'Nay, you were late. In fact, Arwen had become so distressed by your tardiness that she sent Lord Faramir to scout for you.' Aragorn continued. 'I believe he found you in a tavern not a mile from Ithilien some days later. You never did have a head for ale.' 

'I believe the culprit was the dwarf.' 

'You blame Gimli for many of your shortcomings, _mellonamin_.' The man mused. 

'I do not deny it.' Legolas laughed. 'And where is Master Dwarf? Came he not to celebrate?' 

'He is here, and has spoke of you frequently. I'm sure he will be most pleased to find you have returned.' 

Indeed the dwarf was pleased. The moment word reached him that Legolas, Elven lord of Ithilien, was within the White City he had hurried to the gates to see his stubborn, arrogant, fanciful friend. Between their duties in Aglarond and Ithilien, Gimli had not seen Legolas in quite some time. 

Legolas had no sooner dismounted, than Gimli made his presence known by clasping the Elven prince toward him in a nature that was unheard of between elves and dwarves. Legolas tried in vain to wipe the look of utter surprise from his face, as his dwarven friend clung to him. Then the dwarf remembered himself, and his own pride, and quickly drew away from the elf, feigning as though he had lost his footing and fallen into an elf that had gotten in his way. 

Both Aragorn and his foster brothers eyed the bristling dwarf, regarding his explanation for embracing Legolas with knowing stares. 

Amid his spewed excuses, Gimli had smiled warmly at his friend and slapped his hand against the elf's arm. 'Good to see you, Master Elf.' 

'And you, Master Dwarf.' Legolas smiled at his friend, before adding, 'Would you grace me with your company to the stables?' While Gimli was not wholly fond of horses, he gathered he was relatively safe as long as he was not astride one, and heartily agreed. 

As the pair drifted out of earshot, Aragorn chuckled, 'Never was there such a pair.' 

'I admire the dwarf. Valar knows, much wind blows from Legolas' mouth.' Elladan commented, having fallen victim to one of Legolas' verbal bouts on too many accounts. 

Elrohir smirked at his twin, 'One trait he inherited from his father, no doubt.' 

The older twin rolled his eyes at the mention of Thranduil. He well remembered his earliest encounters with the King of Mirkwood, who would visit their father on matters concerning little and talk the pointed ears off of Elrond long into the night. 

It was on such occurrences that the twins had first come to know the Silvan elf. Over two millennia ago, the elf had ventured to Imladris with his father, and had instantaneously struck up a friendship with the Peredhel twins. They possessed treasured memories of the elf long before the Prince of Mirkwood befriended their Númenórean foster brother. Though the two soon had eventually become the closest of friends, the twins remembered how their foster brother had resented the blonde. 

It had not been uncommon in those early days that Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, and Aragorn would venture into the woods bordering Rivendell on hunting trips. Often he remembered, Legolas feeling pity upon these creatures that lives they had taken. He had always been a gentle and caring creature, and it was that inner grace that had caused Aragorn to both admire and envy the elf. 

He had proved to be a distraction between his foster bothers and himself, and Aragorn resented the fact that Legolas held memories of the twins that he would never share. In time, however the two grew quite close. It had happened during the spring of Aragorn's sixteenth year, he had wandered off the usual hunting trail and quickly found that he held no knowledge of this portion of the forest. Some hours later, the Prince of Mirkwood happened upon the shivering, frightened boy. Aragorn had feared the Prince would taunt his fears, and had visions of Legolas spreading gossip about how the foster son of Elrond got lost in his own woods. However, Legolas kept silent on the matter. From that day forward, something changed between the two. Though, it would be nearly two years before the two would become friends, Aragorn still remembered the incident fondly. 

The twins noticed Aragorn smiling. 'Reminiscing, dear brother?' One asked. 

Aragorn tossed his head back to brush several unruly strands of chestnut from his face. 'Just remembering times we've spent with that elf.' 

'There are many memories yet unmade.' Elladan replied. 

'Aye, memories Legolas shall carry on, once all is faded' Aragorn added, as the three made their way toward the royal stables.

* * *

Eyeing the elf affectionately stroking the neck of Arod, the dwarf couldn't hide the smile that crept along the corner of his lips. He enjoyed the soft, lilting voice that spoke Sindarin to the creature, the same voice that often sang of the Sea. The kindness and grace that emanated from the simplest of gestures was something that was unmistakably Elven. Though he would have once viewed such behaviour are weak, Gimli had come to appreciate it after spending time in the company of Legolas. 

Noting the dwarf's gaze, Legolas turned to his friend, 'Do you find something of interest, Master Dwarf?' 

'Just your flighty behaviour.' In truth, it wasn't a lie. However, Gimli would never admit to enjoying the elf's quirks, for it would steal the element of jest the two had so mastered. 

Legolas smirked at his friend, and returned his attention to the stallion, a gesture that never failed to annoy the dwarf. 

'Elves …' Gimli muttered. 

Aragorn and the twins entered the stables a short moment later, distracting the two from the looming sparring match. Legolas shot Gimli a look that said they'd finish this match later. And later they would, as always. Now was not the time, for tasks were to be finished before the night's festivities, and Aragorn would most likely ask of his assistance in several of the formalities predeceasing the event. Dismounting, Aragorn eyed the mismatched pair for a moment, knowing well that a verbal bout was at once being planned and plotted out, and set swiftly to mental schedules. He made his own mental note not to be present when this duel of words commenced. 

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances. They were not fully aware of the ongoing battle of wits between Legolas and Gimli, though they had sensed such during the Battle of Pelargir where they had witnessed the two carry on as though merely hunting for sport as opposed to fighting a battle in which the fate of the free lands was held in the balance. Even the most dire of times seemed brightened by their friendship, and in time of celebration the light of their bond increased a hundredfold.

* * *

The palace was in a flurry in preparation for the night's festivities. There was much preening and polishing of the banquet hall, and tasks to be completed. The Queen of Gondor paced down the halls in search of a certain scullery maid with whom she had entrusted the duty keeping the names of the honoured guests and their seating at the banquet table in order. Less than eight hours before the festivities were to begin, Arwen had learned that not only had the serving girl failed to organize the seating, she had misplaced the guest list entirely. Though a woman of patience, the situation had done much to irritate the Evenstar, the last thing she needed was further distractions. Assessing her options, Arwen concluded to merely settle the matter on her own accord and set out for the banquet hall, which was at the moment quite bustling with servant girls making the final preparations. Amidst the fuss stood the Lady Éowyn calmly adding the final touches to the table setting. Though it was quite unusual to find a woman so driven by a will to seek adventure, to give such delicate attention to the simplest of floral arrangements, Arwen's charm and grace had softened the rougher edges off the White Lady of Rohan. 

'M'lady.' Éowyn offered a simple courtesy. 

Arwen offered a nod of acknowledgement. 

'Is there something amiss?' 

Chewing her lower lip, Arwen studied the banquet hall, making a mental seating chart, 'Oh, 'tis nothing.' 

'If you say so, m'lady.' Éowyn replied, leaning slightly over the table to reach a stray piece of greenery. 

'Would Éomer object to sitting beside Gimli?' Arwen abruptly inquired, causing Éowyn to glance up from her work. She had heard of their first encounter, and believed it to be the reason for the Queen's inquiry. 

'No, m'lady.' 

Arwen nodded. 

'If he were to object I might find reason to lop off his head.' Éowyn added with a laugh. 

'Let us hope such violence does not come in time of celebration.' Arwen commented with her own laugh, though she remembered a time when celebration often was foreshadowed by great evil. Yet such times were past, and now such revered Elven holidays were a time of feasting and joviality. 

Naught could shadow the light of the festival of Faradome. 

Sindarin translation: 

_Faradome_ - Elvish word for the Festival of Summer Solstice 

_gwedeir_ - brothers (not of blood relation) 

_mellonamin_ - mine friend 


End file.
